Redemption
by ibshafer
Summary: Because everyone deserves a shot at it, even Dave Karofsky... Main story COMPLETE. Bonus THANK-YOU! chapter  PWP  to follow...
1. Chapter 1

**Story: **Redemption 1/?  
**Fandom: **Glee  
**Author:** ibshafer  
**Rating:** PG-13, for language  
**Character/Pairing:** Kurt, Karofsky (This isn't a 'ship story at this point and it probably won't be. It's up to Kurt, really. I'll let you know when he tells _me_…)  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own these people, they own themselves and are just nice enough to let me spin them around the page now and then.  
**Summary:** Because everybody deserves a shot at it…  
**Warnings:** none  
**A/N:** The author does not in any way condone bullying or any form of aggression towards homosexuals, or anyone else, for that matter.

Redemption  
~ _ibshafer_

It had been a long week, but little by little, as the newness had worn off and he'd settled into the routine at Dalton, he found himself starting to relax; starting to forget what it felt like to be scared all the time.

Blaine and the rest of the Warblers had been great. They'd welcomed him like a long, lost brother; they didn't press for details, they were just _There:_ when he needed unspoken support; when he needed a crowd around him, loud and laughing; when he needed support of the physical kind – walking to his car after practice – _after dark._

But it had been a week now and life had lost its red-tinged edge. He'd stopped jumping at every shadow and slammed locker door. He'd started to feel like he was Just Kurt again – instead of Kurt the Victim – and so when Blaine and Randy had said they'd just be a few minutes, that they needed to talk through the set list, Kurt had said not to rush: he was fine; he'd just head out on his own.

He'd been whistling the chorus from the last piece they'd been working on, secure knowing he was on the Dalton compound, the smell of freshly mown lawn a reassuring bit of normalcy in his lungs, so he didn't see the car parked on the other side of the lot, didn't see the figure leaning against the fence.

_Until it moved_.

Heart racing, he fumbled with his keys, dropped them, swore under his breath, and then heard a single word, spoken softly, from the other side of the lot where the car was parked and the figure still waited.

"_Please._"

He could now clearly see Karofsky's big frame hunched against the chain link, almost curled in on itself, like it was trying to disappear through a hole in its own chest.

"Please, can I just talk to you for a minute?"

The request spurred Kurt to action; snatching his keys off the ground, he squeezed the fob, then grabbed the door handle and sprang into his car, jamming the lock down the minute his butt hit the seat. Chest heaving, blood pounding in his ears, he groped for the ignition with the key, but his hands were shaking so badly, he kept missing.

Panicked, he shot a glance across the parking lot and froze when he didn't see the shape of his tormenter still leaning against the fence. A second look told him why.

Karofsky has slid down, back still against the barrier, and was now curled into a ball on the grass.

For a second time he swore under his breath.

_I will not be a sap. I will not fall for it again. _

Finally, the key slid home and he started the car. He considered hitting the gas and tearing out of there – make a statement with rubber on the surface of the lot – but something…something made him think better of it.

Making sure the doors were still locked, he slid a finger onto the window release, lowering the glass halfway.

"What do you want from me, Karofsky," he shouted across the lot. Just to be sure, he put the lights on, brights at that. A swath of parking lot was suddenly bathed it blinding blue illumination. In the receding glow at the edge of it, he could see the big jock looking at him, just sitting there looking at him – unmoving; like all the will had left him, like he was some poor carbon copy of himself.

"I just…" The quiet voice trailed off, then continued. "I just wanted to thank you. I know you hate me and I don't blame you, but I just had to say that…"

_What the…?_

"You're damn _right_ I hate you!" He felt his voice rising, his face growing hot with pique. "Why should I listen to you…say _any_thing, huh? Don't you think you've said it all? Huh, _**Dave**_?" He spat out the name like an insult. "I mean, once you've threatened to kill someone, what more is there to say?"

Something that sounded like a sob bounced off the asphalt. "Look, _I'm sorry_! I'm _fucked up_. I'm the _worst_. I suck, OK?" His voice was so wrecked it was almost painful to listen to. Or it would have been if Kurt could muster up concern. Which he couldn't.

"Yeah, you are!" And because he didn't need to hear any more, he put the car in gear and started to pull out of the slot.

"_**Wait!" **_Karofsky was on his feet. He hadn't left the fence, he seemed to understand it'd be counterproductive if he did, but he was on his feet and looking at Kurt with the most pathetic expression on his broad, ruddy face.

So Kurt braked the car. "_Fine!_ What did you have to say so badly you risked violating the restraining order?"

Now that he had Kurt's attention, Karofsky didn't seem to know what to do with it. He looked at him, then away, his face a crumpled mess.

Kurt was losing his patience. "_What_ already?" he screamed.

Another second of facial contortions and then the blurted exclamation.

"_I love you!" _

Kurt felt like he'd gotten the wind get knocked out of him. _You what?_

"_You—you…"_ He shook his head, trying to make sense of it. "Are you _kidding_ me? Who threatens to _kill_ the person they…they… I-I can't even say it, it's just too ridiculous."

"Look, I just wanted to tell you that," Karofsky said, a little louder, though clearly more pained. "I don't expect _anything_ from you, I just wanted you to know… And to thank you…to thank you… Kurt, I just wanted to thank you for protect-for not _outing_ me the other day."

Kurt still had a stunned _"Oh…"_ on his face, when Karofsky climbed into his car, started it instantly, and motored from the lot, eyes on Kurt as he sped by.

_What the…_

"What the hell am I supposed to do with _that_," he whispered, not even registering the fact that somewhere in all of this he'd started crying.

It would be hours before he could get the image out of his head; Karofsky's pathetic face as he drove by…

tbc…

3


	2. Chapter 2

**Story: **Redemption – Part 2/?: Roses  
**Fandom: **Glee  
**Author:** ibshafer  
**Rating:** PG-13 for now  
**Character/Pairing:** Kurt/Karofsky  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own these people, they own themselves and are just nice enough to let me spin them around the page now and then.  
**Summary:** Because everyone deserves a shot at it, even Dave Karofsky  
**Warnings:** none  
**A/N:** The author does not in any way condone bullying or any form of aggression towards homosexuals, or anyone else, for that matter.

. - Part 1

Redemption: Roses  
_- ibshafer_

"_I don't know where to start_  
_This cage 'round my heart_  
_Locked up what I'd meant to say_  
_Or I felt all along the way_  
_Just wondering how come I couldn't take your breath away._

_Cause I never sent roses  
I never did enough  
I didn't know how to love you  
Though I loved you so much  
When I should've sent roses"_  
_ I Should Have Sent You Roses – Elton John/Bernie Taupin/Leon Russell_

He'd been sitting in his car for an hour now, outside a diner in Cridersville, Ohio, trying to talk himself into, well, _some_ course of action.

_Stay or go, pick one, Kurt._

Maybe he should have told someone where he was going, what he was doing, but that would have opened it all up for debate. And by _"debate,"_ he really meant _"argument."_ Finn would have told him he was insane and Burt would have yelled at him in that low-key way of his that was almost worse than the full-shouting kind. And Carole? She was the toughest one of them all. She would have just barred the door…

Why _was_ he sitting outside a greasy truck stop in Cridersville, looking through a filthy window as a line backer in a red letter jacket nursed a cup of coffee and worried at a piece of apple pie with a fork?

Kurt wasn't a saint; he knew he wasn't above crossing a line here and there to get what he wanted. Nothing like threatening to _kill_ someone, but he acknowledged that there was…_some_ aspect of _"threat"_ in his manipulations. (And it would be while before he stopped feeling a pang of guilt every time he looked at Finn…) Kurt had never had a problem accepting who he was, but being open about it hadn't been easy. It was a struggle for him.

It was a struggle for _any_one.

_Dave Karofsky_ was struggling with it.

Kurt shouldn't have cared. Anyone would have told him that Dave's struggle wasn't his problem – if they'd known what Dave was struggling with, that is. But _Kurt_ knew and he'd done a far amount of reading.

He knew that bullying was only the _second _worst way of handling the realization you were gay. That while some people took it out on others, there were some, even the bullies, who eventually took it out on _themselves_.

He'd told himself he was just there to help Karofsky, that as scared as he'd been of the big jerk, afraid of what Karofsky could do to him, he was also scared of what the big jerk could do to _him_self.

Because people did that.

People killed themselves every day.

'_I love you…'_

As screwed up as it was, _he'd never be able to forgive himself if that happened._

Not because he felt anything for his tormentor, but because _no one_ should have to go through that, no one should have to think that killing themselves was their only option.

His friends might not have understood it, that as another gay teen, he couldn't let that happen, even to someone who had, at the height of their own fear, threatened to kill him…

And so he'd done all of this without telling anyone, not even Blaine. _Shit_, Blaine would have handcuffed them together so Kurt either couldn't meet with Karofsky or, at least, couldn't have met with him alone.

Thinking about the menace in those piercing eyes, the forced smile as the line backer had poked a finger at him, run it down his chest, then grabbed the wedding cake topper from Kurt's shaking fingers – "_Can I have this?" – _he felt his resolve waiver for a moment.

_I must be crazy…_

Then he flashed forward to that awkward face-to-face in Principal Sylvester's office, the Hummels vs. the Karofskys (the bully's father had been so soft-spoken, so _reasonable_), at the so-faint-no-one-else-would-have-seen-it gratitude in the Neanderthal's eyes when Kurt _didn't_ out him right then and there, his own mild surprise that the walking mountain was an _A student_, and not the ignoramus Kurt had always assumed he was, the surprise expulsion from a surprisingly sensitive Principal Sylvester, and then the way Karofsky glared at him as he'd walked out, shaking his head as though disappointed in Kurt, as though, somehow, Kurt should have _understood_ what all of it had meant…

'_I love you…'_

Words choked out under cover of darkness from across an empty parking lot while he'd sat safely behind heavy shatterproof glass and the side-reinforced carriage of this SUV.

'_I don't expect anything from you, I just wanted you to know… And to thank you…'_

What _was_ he doing here?

Couldn't he have helped Karofsky _"deal"_ by email? Or the phone?

What had possessed him to dial the guy's number and set this up?

He'd been careful to choose a place that was public and well-lit, but one that was also far enough off the beaten Lima track that they wouldn't see anyone they knew. Why?

Why had he chosen to meet with the guy at all?

Was it just because no one had ever wanted him before?

Or was it the realization that someone who _wanted_ so strongly they were driven to such an _act of passion – _ that _kiss_ had spoken volumes, realization, frustration, anger, lust, desperation, and yes, love – could feel all of that strongly enough to _change_?

To change how they dealt with it?

To come to accept it?

_Was there hope, was there _redemption_, for Dave Karofsky?_

Kurt shivered, even in the blast of heat from the SUV's big vents.

_He loves me? _

Was that possible?

There was any _number_ of better ways to express that feeling, but then Kurt had to laugh out loud – what _better_ way for someone he'd called a Neanderthal on more than one occasion – as the image of himself dressed in an animal skin and being dragged by his hair back into the big lug's cave played across the Broadway stage in his head…

The tarnished bell on the front door had jangled twice as he'd come through, but it was the expression on Karofsky's face that had fairly _sung_ as he'd slid into the booth.

Laying his gloves on the table top, face a bright red from cold and the smile he was _fighting_ with all his might, Kurt had grabbed the menu and started turning pages.

Dave still hadn't said a word – his expression a ruddy mix of surprise and relief – and then Kurt looked up briefly, gave in to his smile for a split second, before turning back to the menu.

"You should have just sent _roses_…"

tbc…

'_Cause I never sent roses  
I never did enough  
I didn't know how to love you  
Though I loved you so much  
When I should've sent roses  
When you crossed my mind  
No other reason  
Than the fact you were mine  
I should've sent roses'_

4


	3. Chapter 3

**Story: **Redemption – Part 3a/?: Riding Lessons  
**Fandom: **Glee  
**Author:** ibshafer  
**Rating:** PG-13 for now...  
**Character/Pairing:** Kurt/Karofsky  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own these people, they own themselves and are just nice enough to let me spin them around the page now and then.  
**Summary:** Because everyone deserves a shot at it, even Dave Karofsky  
**Warnings:** none  
**A/N:** The author does not in any way condone bullying or any form of aggression towards homosexuals, or anyone else, for that matter.  
**A/N2: **Sorry to drop another chapter so quickly, but I couldn't get it out of my head, so, here it is...

Riding Lessons  
_- ibshafer_

"_I want to take riding lessons…"_

It had just sort of fallen out of his mouth one day; a reason offered up without much reasoning.

He was actually pretty amazed anyone was buying it.

But here he was, three weeks into his _"riding lessons,"_ meeting Dave in Cridersville for their fourth Saturday morning breakfast, and his father hadn't even asked him where the _stables_ were? Of course, having gone through that equestrian phase last year gave him the right apparel for it and (_ugh!_) taking a quick (_very quick!_) walk through the pasture across from the diner, helped create the correct, accompanying…aroma. Dave always got a kick out of how fast he got those riding boots off and into the giant zip-loc bag he used to carry them, before any of that…aroma could rub off on his clothes.

Thankfully, Finn wasn't into horses or he might have wanted to take lessons, too, and Kurt would have had to come up with a reason why he couldn't, but so far, so good.

The same went for Mercedes and Blaine.

And as for his father, Burt would ask him how his lessons were going and he'd tell him it wasn't easy, but it would be worth it in the end – _which wasn't a lie._

It might have just been an impulse, but "riding lessons" had turned out to be a great cover.

They _weren't_ dating. They were just talking. Well, _mostly_.

After breakfast, as they'd walk back to their cars – they always met at the diner – Dave would grab his hand and pull him back and before Kurt could stop him, Dave would kiss him really quickly, then let him go, leaving him to stagger those last few steps to his car. Kurt would always yell at him, tell him to cut it out, to keep his big meaty lips to himself, and Dave would just laugh and pucker up, fake-kissing the air, but the truth was, Kurt couldn't get _enough_ of this version of Dave Karofsky. Not because of the kissing, which, okay, was nice…, but because _this_ Dave Karofsky was so relaxed, so free of his own personal torture (as well refraining from torturing Kurt), so…well, _nice_, too, that it made Kurt a little giddy.

It was so _not_ how he'd imagined his tormentor would be. Karofsky had always been this angry, lumbering idiot at school, but seeing him outside that environment, freed from Azimio's influence, freed from the expectations of their peers, freed from his _own_ expectations of who and what a line backer was supposed to be, he was just this guy who liked video games and South Park and, apparently, Kurt Hummel.

But those expectations, that's what had started all of this…this whatever you wanted to call it.

All of this _angst._

Because in addition to the expectations the people you hang out with have for you and the expectations you have for yourself, there are the ones that come from your _family._

And those were the worst by far…

Dave's parents, believe it or not, were _great_. Not the homophobes Kurt would have expected to have spawned someone as messed up and conflicted as Dave Karofsky. No, as it turns out, the problem was more about the _expectations_ they had for him, or, more specifically, the expectations Dave's _father_, and really, _Dave_, had for Dave.

_Dave Karofsky was the last of his line._

He'd had an older brother whom he idolized, a medical student, who'd stepped away from an internship in Chicago to serve his country and subsequently been killed in an air raid in Iraq. His father, a college professor, was an only child whose own father had been killed in Viet Nam not long after Mr. Karofsky had been born.

That made David Jason Karofsky solely responsible for keeping the illustrious Karofsky name from disappearing into history.

And though he was subtle about it, his father never let him forget that fact. David loved his father and he was proud of his family. That was one of the reasons why he was so tormented about his growing sexuality.

_Expectations. _

He had a _duty_ to fulfill – in his brother Michael's name, in his father's name, in Grandpa Joe's name – to marry a women and to sire sons to further carry on the name of Karofsky.

And somehow, his fascination with Kurt Hummel's dimples or the way his hips moved when he walked down the hall, did not jibe with that duty.

tbc...

3


	4. Chapter 4

**Story: **Redemption – Part 3b/?: Riding Lessons (part 2)  
**Fandom: **Glee  
**Author:** ibshafer  
**Rating:** PG-13 now  
**Character/Pairing:** Kurt/Karofsky

**Disclaimer:** I don't own these people, they own themselves and are just nice enough to let me spin them around the page now and then.  
**Summary:** Because everyone deserves a shot at it, even Dave Karofsky  
**Warnings:** none  
**A/N:** The author does not in any way condone bullying or any form of aggression towards homosexuals, or anyone else, for that matter.

Riding Lessons – Part 2

_- ibshafer_

"_Thank you,"_ Dave said, which was the way he always greeted Kurt when he arrived at the diner; not _'good morning'_ or _'hey, how're you doing?'_ or even _'nice outfit, sweet cheeks,' _but _'thank you,'_ as in, _'thank you, again, for not hating me though you have every reason to and for meeting me here again, and for just being you.'_

Kurt damned his fair skin for once again giving him away; he was blushing like a school girl and Karofsky was taking it as a sign, which he most certainly should not be. No sir.

"Come on, I told you to stop that," Kurt groused, while Dave's face colored pink and his expression said that he had clearly, once again, mistaken Kurt's blushing for something he should not have. "It's just _breakfast_. Or rather, it's my weekly allotment of fat and salt, with nary a mochachino to balance things out in sight." He sighed, inspecting the table top before laying his soft brown riding gloves down on it. "I agreed to meet with you because I understand what it's like to have no one else to talk to who gets what you're going through." He looked up briefly, met the expectant eyes across from him, then back down at the stained menu that he looked at every week, though he _knew_ he wouldn't find anything appetizing on it. "And stop looking at me like that."

"How am I _looking_ at you, Hummel?" Karofsky growled, a hint of Kurt's former tormentor at the edges of his voice, but then his face colored, eyes softening. "Sorry, sorry, I _know_," he said quietly. "I'm still getting used to this."

"Used to _what_," Kurt asked before he could stop himself.

He knew where this was going and he didn't want to go there, wasn't ready to go there. He was pretty sure this wasn't the _There_ he wanted to go.

_Why not?_ said that annoying little voice in his head that always chimed in when he needed stupid questions asked.

Karofsky looked embarrassed as he went on, leaning forward, his voice so low only Kurt could have heard it. "I'm still getting used to being able to look at you without having to hit you or say something mean to cover it up."

And Kurt was blushing full on because though he thought he could read Dave Karofsky's every thought, and deflect and counter or at least, _for Liza's sake_, turn _away_, that one had taken him by surprise.

Taking a deep breath, he counted to five, willing the blood in his cheeks to find some where better to be.

"Well, you should know better than to do that here," he said under his breath, surveying the diner's patrons, a motley collection of truck drivers and dairy farmers. "Just because we're far enough outside of Lima that we won't see anyone we know, doesn't mean this place is _safe_."

"Then why do we meet here every week?"

It was a simple enough question and the response, sitting like vinegar on his tongue, was almost out of his mouth before he stopped it.

_Because it's a public place and if you tried anything, tried to hurt me, I know these guys here would protect me. _

That was the reason he'd chosen the diner in Cridersville more than a month ago when he'd first contacted Karofsky.

He'd agreed to give the guy a chance to explain himself.

That didn't mean he _trusted_ him.

But that was a month ago.

Was he still scared of Dave Karofsky?

Looking over at that chubby face and bemused smile, it was hard to remember that this was the same guy who had tormented him and threatened his life, who had made his life at McKinley a living hell.

Away from that place, outside of his life, face-to-face with Kurt, Dave Karofsky had been _liberated_; freed to talk, talk he did.

Karofsky said done all of those things because he'd realized something about himself that he just couldn't accept – it _scared_ him, challenged his view of himself, and ran counter to everything he knew. And in the middle of that, as he struggled with it, fought with it, tried to hide it from others, in waltzed – _literally_ – out-and-proud, Kurt Hummel, rubbing his face in it, reminding him with every expression, every outfit, that he, Dave Karofsky, was not going to have the life he'd been expecting, that he was not going to carry on the family name, that more than that, he was going to be picked on and beaten up and treated like a freak and…

The first time Dave Karofsky had cried it had broken Kurt's heart and as much as he wanted to stop him, to stop _it_, he knew his former tormentor needed to get it out, needed to let it go, and so he'd talked him through it, encouraged him to say it, all the while curbing his natural tendency to be blunt, to tell him what he really needed to do. _Screw the hockey team and screw your family duty. You have to do what's right for you._ Listening to the big guy talk like that, so vulnerable, so open, so _grateful_ to Kurt for letting him do it, he had to fight the urge to touch him, had to stop himself from smiling too much, because Kurt was getting something out of these talks, too. Even though he was Out and Burt was great about it, even his _step-brother_ was great about it now, it was still validating to talk with someone else who understood.

And so they talked, Dave poured out his heart, Kurt listened, sometimes pouring out a little himself. And though there was one thing in particular that they didn't talk about – a shouted confession in a darkened parking lot – sometimes they even talked about other things, like school or movies or the things they liked to do.

The truth was it had stopped being a therapy session a long time ago.

And so now instead of stammering something stupid, about the diner's ambience or about it being out of the way, which was true, Kurt just smiled, blushing full-on.

"Force of habit, I guess. Why don't we pick someplace else for next week?" Karofsky's big face broke into a grin now. Trying to sound nonchalant, Kurt continued. "And can we make it a little later, like dinner, maybe? Getting up this early on a Saturday should be against the law…"

So maybe he could be forgiven, a few minutes later, for not pulling away when Karofsky grabbed Kurt's riding glove-clad hand and pulled him behind that big delivery truck next to the diner. And for not giving him a hard time when Dave's usual joking half-kiss lasted longer than a second.

And when he'd let Dave slide his hands into Kurt's hair, holding him close and kissing him slowly and completely and in a way that made his knees more than a little weak, he could definitely be forgiven for _that_.

4


	5. Chapter 5

**Story: **Redemption – Part 4/6

**Chapter:** Reality Check  
**Fandom: **Glee  
**Author:** ibshafer  
**Rating:** Hard R…  
**Character/Pairing:** Kurt/Karofsky

**Disclaimer:** I don't own these people, they own themselves and are just nice enough to let me spin them around the page now and then.  
**Summary:** Even the best laid plans of mice and men, sometimes go awry...  
**Warnings:** none  
**A/N:** The author does not in any way condone bullying or any form of aggression towards homosexuals, or anyone else, for that matter.

Reality Check

_- ibshafer_

"You still don't trust me, do you?"

Much as Kurt knew he really ought to respond to that question, the answer was tragically obvious; Dave was still bent halfway across the Jeep's front seat and Kurt was wedged up against the passenger side door, face flushed, breathing hard, shirt half open and hair loose on his forehead.

He made a lame, too-late attempt to reorganize himself in his seat, knowing full well whatever he _said_, the damage had been done, but he smoothed back his hair anyway and pulled the plum-colored silk across his chest.

"I wouldn't _be_ here right now if I didn't," he said, trying to blot out the sound of his own voice screaming _"No, NO!"_ though he would almost swear he could still hear it echoing through the 4X4's interior. In an attempt at nonchalance, he pulled the rear-view toward him and inspected his hair, running his fingers through waves to pull them back into shape.

The silence that followed was only broken by the sound of a deep and rumbling sigh and Kurt snuck a glance over at Karofsky who, apart from sitting up straight, had not moved.

"Are you gonna to tell me I came on too strong or I made assumptions I shouldn't have," Dave finally asked, jaw set. "Because I'm pretty sure you're the one that made the first move." Now that Kurt looked, Dave's shirt was open too and Kurt was fairly certain the big jock hadn't done that himself…

_How do I tell him? _

Kurt agonized for a full minute; how to tell Karofsky, his first official boyfriend, on their first official date, that when Kurt kissed him and Dave had started to kiss him back, when Dave had, in fact, started to get a bit more aggressive about it…that Kurt had flashed back to the last time that Karofsky had slammed him against the locker, slammed him so hard that he'd fallen on his ass, and that Kurt had suddenly felt that chilled dread he'd experienced when the big jock had threatened to kill him. All while Karofsky's lips and tongue had been hot against Kurt's and the feel of those big hands, those fabulous hands of his, were in his hair, on his neck, and though they should have been making his insides weak, all he could think about was how thin his neck was and how easily those big bear hands would be able to break it.

There had not been the slightest hint of aggression, or even anger, in _anything_ Dave Karofsky had done since the moment he'd confessed his true feelings for Kurt in the parking lot of the Dalton Academy over a month ago, and Kurt had long since forgiven Dave for how poorly he had handled the whole conflicted/frightened/emergent-homosexual thing, so when that Fear Reel had started to spool out across the big screen in Kurt head, just as things were getting interesting – _and hot!_ – no one was more surprised than Kurt was.

But how to tell Dave that, how to explain it, without really, really hurting him, or dredging up that whole passel of guilt again? Kurt was pretty sure Dave would take it hard.

More than that, how to get _passed_ those feelings, those old fears, so they could have the kind of relationship, a _physical_ one, they both clearly wanted.

Kurt was distressed; he had thought that wound had long since scabbed over.

"Are you gonna to say something?" Dave's voice was flat, but expectant, and Kurt winced when he swore he heard that voice break.

Counting to ten and steeling himself, Kurt slid across the seat in lieu of an answer, grabbing Karofsky by the soft corduroy lapels of his jacket, and pulling the big jock back into a deep, deep kiss.

The surprised moan in the back of Karofsky's throat was all the forgiveness Kurt needed, but when Dave dragged his mouth from Kurt's to run his tongue down his slender neck, when the pressure of his body against Kurt's began to press him back and down upon the seat again, Kurt drew away abruptly, the phantom pain of metal locker stinging the back of his head, but this time, Dave was prepared, big arms fast around Kurt's back, so all Kurt could do was press his forehead into the hollow of Karofsky's throat and cry.

To his credit, Dave didn't let go at the sound of Kurt's tears, just drew him against his wide chest, rocking him softly until the tears quieted.

"I get it," he said softly, hands running over Kurt's back, soothing through the herringboned-wool. "Trust is one thing. Scars are another." Kurt felt him sigh and then, heartbreakingly, to shake in that way tough guys do when they a fighting their own emotions.

Moving the few inches he needed for clearance, Kurt found Dave's mouth, pulled tight in frozen dismay, and without a word, kissed him softly, once, then again.

"What a couple of crybabies, huh," Kurt asked, laughing through a fresh wave of tears. Karofsky was smiling and nodding at the same time, fishing out a handkerchief to blot at Kurt's face. "I'm sorry," Kurt said, grabbing it from Dave's fingers to wipe at the big jock's blotchy cheeks. "I wasn't expecting that. I didn't think I still…"

Dave was shaking his head. "Shit, don't _you_ apologize. This is my fault. I'm the asshole. I'm the jerk. I'm the freak—"

Kurt kissed him again, then pulled away, face flushed, a second later. "Shut up," he said, grin wide, eyes still glued to Karofsky's lips. "I _like_ shutting you up that way." Dave smiled at this, but the smile was anemic. "Look, you _were_ a jerk, you _were_ an asshole, but you're not anymore and I know that. It's just…"

"Just?" Dave prompted, voice low.

"It's just my nervous system – I'm wired like a _cat_, don't you know? Freaking out is my natural instinct." Beaming, he put both hands on Karofsky's face, pulling at his full cheeks until he broke into a huge grin.

Suddenly feeling to need to be serious, he placed his lips against Karofsky's forehead, kissed him gently, then slipped his arms around his neck, holding him close.

"Maybe we'll just have to go more slowly," he said softly, sadly.

Dave pulled him closer, squeezing him tightly against his chest. "Don't think I won't remind you the next time you jump me, Hummel."

Kurt chuckled softly, warm against that big chest. "Riiight. I'm sure you will."

"Oh, you don't think so?" Karofsky's voice rumbled through him and the feel of his laughter tickled.

"Oh, I'm pretty sure I can't trust you as far as I could throw you and," he ran a hand across Dave's back, "at, what, 250, I'm thinking I couldn't throw you too far…"

"Wait a sec… I thought you just told me you trusted me?" Strong fingers pinched Kurt's side.

"_I take it back!_ _I take it back!_" Kurt squeaked, to which Dave just pinched him again…

fin…

4


	6. Chapter 6

**Story: **Redemption – Part 5/6

**Chapter:** Research – part 1  
**Fandom: **Glee  
**Author:** ibshafer  
**Rating:** NC-17!  
**Character/Pairing:** Kurt/Karofsky

**Disclaimer:** I don't own these people, they own themselves and are just nice enough to let me spin them around the page now and then.  
**Summary:** …the waiting is over… This is it!  
**Warnings:** well, it's NC-17, so that sort of says it all, I think…  
**A/N:** The author does not in any way condone bullying or any form of aggression towards homosexuals, or anyone else, for that matter.

Research

_- ibshafer_

"Hey - you okay?"

Dave was sitting with his back against the wall, hugging his own knees, and even in the wan light filtering over from the television as the end credits played, Kurt could see that his face was flushed and his eyes were wide, barely blinking.

"Kurt to Meathead," Kurt said with a grin. "Anyone alive in there?"

Giggling, he bumped Karofsky's shoulder with his own and Karofsky responded with a start.

"Nothing, I'm fine," he said, voice flat as Kansas, still staring at the TV, now white with snow.

_Uh-huh._

Maybe this hadn't been the best idea after all…

It'd been a month since they'd decided to "take it slow," and after countless 'almosts' in the backs of both their cars, and the decreasing frequency of Kurt's flashbacks (and accompanying freakouts), they'd reached the mutual conclusion that it was time…

They were ready.

Well, _almost_ ready.

Kurt may have been…_untried_, aside from their frequent make-out sessions, but he'd known what he was for as long as he could remember and had been doing…research for almost as long.

Dave, on the other hand, was as "green" as they came.

And that was why, on a weekend when Dave's parents were out of town at a wedding (that Dave had feigned illness to get out of, mind you…) and Kurt had told his father he was staying with Blaine for a couple days (to work on a duet they were doing for Regionals), Kurt had burned a few of his favorite…um, movies onto DVD, packed a bag, and headed across town. To Dave's house.

Dinner eaten – salad for Kurt, steak for Dave (was it just too cute that they could split a meal that way?) – and small talk talked, they'd retreated to Dave's sports-themed bedroom, turned out all the lights, and popped in the DVD…

That was ninety minutes ago and though the room had been filled with heavy breathing and all manner of moaning…none of it had been theirs.

Not that Kurt hadn't tried.

He leaned his head on Dave's shoulder. He put his hand on Dave's thigh. He even, taking a cue from some silly TV show he'd seen, leaned across Dave's lap to grab a tissue from the night stand on Dave's side of the bed.

Nothing.

Well, not _completely_ nothing.

Dave had gasped and recoiled as though Kurt were made of fire.

And then he'd pulled his knees up to his chest and hugged them like they were his wubbie or something.

So Kurt had left him alone.

Even though Kurt was all kinds of hot and bothered right now and _really_, if Dave had _asked_, Kurt would have said he'd seen plenty – hadn't _Dave,_ by now? – and all he really wanted was to tear Dave's clothes off and have at it already.

But Dave didn't look good. And so Kurt had left him alone.

With the movie over, and Dave still looking sick, Kurt was beginning to worry that maybe that boy wasn't gay after all…

Leaning over, Kurt kissed Dave's muscled and bared upper arm. "You don't look fine to me, love. You look like you're going to puke." Karofsky's back was still straight, flat against the wall, and he was _still_ staring at that TV screen even though there was nothing on it but snow now.

Kurt was starting to get really worried.

"Look, maybe this was a bad idea," he said, softly, and began to slide off the bed. "Maybe we're not ready after all. Maybe—"

Dave had grabbed at the back of his sweater, stopping Kurt's slide across Dave's blue/grey Navy Football comforter.

"That's not it." Dave's voice was flat, strained.

He hadn't let go of Kurt's sweater and rather than have the hissy over his couture he might under different circumstances, Kurt just slid back onto the bed, slid back over to that big body, and leaned in.

"Still gay," he asked, hopefully, keeping his hands to himself, just in case the answer was "no."

Silent, Dave swallowed hard and nodded.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Kurt kissed Dave's arm again and began stroking Dave's thigh, pleased to have skin to deal with for a change. (Dave had changed into shorts and a tank when they'd gotten back from dinner.) "Maybe this was just a shock for you. Maybe you didn't realize what it was…you know, all about before?"

Dave hadn't moved and Kurt was feeling bold (…_and the movie had put some ideas into his head…_) so he slipped his hand past Dave's thigh, over to Dave's—

_Oh…_

"You're _not_ okay, are you?"

Karofsky swallowed again, but said nothing and while Kurt felt badly, Karofsky was clearly very uncomfortable, _he just couldn't pull his hand back._ In fact, he had given up fighting the urge and was now—

"Dude! _Mercy?_" Karofsky's hoarse voice was stricken.

Kurt bit his lip. The choice was to laugh or to yell in frustration and Kurt sensed that laughing might be counterproductive, so…

"You act like we weren't about to have _sex_, anyway!" He sighed heavily, squeezing the hot bulge beneath his hand for emphasis. "I don't understand what the problem is."

_Finally_, Dave looked at him. "The problem? The problem is that…is that I don't want to _hurt_ you, Kurt!" The panic was back in his eyes.

_Now_ Kurt was laughing. "Hurt me? Why would you hurt me?"

At this, Dave just glared and when Kurt wouldn't look away, or stop laughing, Dave let go of his knees and slid his feet down to the end of the bed. Wincing, not breaking eye contact with Kurt, he hooked his thumbs into the elastic of his shorts, pulled up, then down, and as though a torment had finally been released, he breathed a shuddering sigh of relief.

Kurt wasn't laughing anymore.

Eyes glued, lips tingling, he was pretty sure his face was as white as a sheet.

"Shit," he said, then, "oh, my _god_…"

Now they were _both_ completely focused on Dave's penis…

"I'm afraid I'm not gonna be able to hold back and…and this is _your_ first time, too." He reached up a big hand and touched Kurt's shoulder softly. _"I don't want to hurt you."_

Kurt licked his lips once, twice.

Raising a perfectly arched brow, he forcibly pulled his eyes away.

"Speaking from my experience," Kurt began, looking Dave in the eye with a grin. "I mean, from my years of watching gay porn, _you_, my fine hunk of man, are not going to last that long anyway."

He could see Dave about to ask a question he was pretty sure was going to be, _'what do you mean?'_, but he never got the chance, because a second later, Kurt had pushed Dave's hands away and buried himself in his lap…

Tbc…

4


	7. Chapter 7

**Story: **Redemption – Part 5/6

**Chapter:** Research – part 2  
**Fandom: **Glee  
**Author:** ibshafer  
**Rating:** NC-17!  
**Character/Pairing:** Kurt/Karofsky

**Disclaimer:** I don't own these people, they own themselves and are just nice enough to let me spin them around the page now and then.  
**Summary:** …the waiting is over… This is it!  
**Warnings:** well, it's NC-17, so that sort of says it all, I think…  
**A/N:** The author does not in any way condone bullying or any form of aggression towards homosexuals, or anyone else, for that matter.

Research – pt 2

_- ibshafer_

_Oh, god, oh, wow, oh, god, oh, __**wow**__…_

He was lost to the heat, the scent, the sheer _audacity_ of what he was doing.

If a year ago anyone had told him he'd be willingly giving Dave Karofsky, his bully, his tormentor, the bane of his very _existence_, what was for _both_ of them a first blowjob, he'd have asked them what drugs there were on and then told them to go hell away.

But that was before a _lot_ of big milestones; before he'd come to see the sweet (_yes_, sweet!) and scared kid beneath all the bravado.

They'd come a long way since a parking lot confession, a risky phone call, and a meeting in a greasy diner in Cridersville, but none of that was going through Kurt's mind right now.

Right now, all he could think about was…how much better it was to be _doing_ this, than watching someone _else_ do it in a video.

Dave was so hard right now, Kurt kept thinking he was going to break it off, but Dave didn't seem to be minding at all, in fact he was pretty sure Karofsky was _crying_…

In the past few weeks, as they'd danced closer and closer to the precipice he was pretty sure they were about to fall _over_, he'd had the opportunity to feel the…magnitude of Dave's…feelings for him, but even those tactile glimpses, heat pressed against his thigh in the backseat of the Jeep, pinned between them up against the side of the diner where they still met occasionally, hadn't prepared him to what was sure to always be, for him, the _ultimate full-monty_. Broad, hard, and _so hot_, Kurt couldn't get over the feeling of it in his mouth. Inhaling deeply, his tongue dancing and his moans uncontrollable, his only regret was how little of it he could actually get—

_[We interrupt our previously scheduled episode of Extreme Pornography: Kurt Hummel Edition for an Urgent Report from our Eye in the Sky. Let's tune in to our cameraman for a Dave's-Eye-View…]_

_Oh, wow, oh, god, oh, wow, oh,__** GOD**__…_

Dave could barely see through the freaking tears of _bliss_, but he could still make out that sweet mouth as it circled him, sliding from tip to mid-mast and back, tongue skating along the flared edge, poking at the throbbing v—

_**OH, GOD, OH, GOD, OH, GOD! **_

He stopped himself from the erotic narration, sure that if he _didn't_, he'd lose it too soon, and instead turned his focus from that bobbing mane of thick brown waves – _so soft!_ – to the tight little curve of a gently bouncing rump. He found himself wondering if the skin of that rump was as smooth and as sweet as he'd always fantasized.

Realizing that he had hands for a _reason_, he moved to cup one rounded hemisphere in his palm, all too quickly finding himself impatient with the plush navy velvet he'd been so thrilled with earlier.

_In the way. So, so in the way…_

He had just slipped a couple fingers beneath the smooth, heavy fabric when his attention was forcibly yanked back to…

The angel in his lap – and his very creative tongue – had discovered there was more to life than the…_main event_, and Dave had looked back to find those beautiful lips closed around his left sac while one smooth hand jacked his length far too insistently.

When the angel looked up to see him watching and smiled around his mouthful, Dave whimpered a warning…and _lost it._

_[We take you now to our Man on the Scene, Kurt Hummel…]_

He'd pulled off just in time for the show, pleased beyond reckoning that he had; thick, milky ropes striped Dave's broad torso, pearls glistening against the smooth, muscled expanse of his abdomen, settling into the valley between the left and right.

Above him, Dave's face was wet with sweat and bliss, and his smile was blinding.

"Better, Angel," Kurt asked breathlessly, hand still on the rudder.

In answer, Dave pulled his fingers from inside Kurt's tight velvet Varvatos jeans, and dragged him up to face-level, hand in Kurt's hair and mouth mobile and appreciative against his.

After a few moments of breathless _"thank you's"_, Dave finally stopped sucking on Kurt's lower lip and pulled back, eyes half-lidded.

"_Better_," he said, voice a growl. "but now it's your turn…"

The last thing Kurt heard before the world shifted under him, was the sound of his resistant zipper, tight against his own need, and Dave Karofky's shouted and gleeful _"oh, yeah!"… _

Tbc…

3


	8. Chapter 8

**Story: **Redemption – Part 5/6

**Chapter:** Research – part 3  
**Fandom: **Glee  
**Author:** ibshafer  
**Rating:** NC-17!  
**Character/Pairing:** Kurt/Karofsky

**Disclaimer:** I don't own these people, they own themselves and are just nice enough to let me spin them around the page now and then.  
**Summary:** …the waiting is over… This is it!  
**Warnings:** well, it's NC-17, so that sort of says it all, I think…  
**A/N:** The author does not in any way condone bullying or any form of aggression towards homosexuals, or anyone else, for that matter.

Research – pt 3

_- ibshafer_

_W-w-wait!_

He was the first person who would have admitted he was a control freak, no delusions there, but still, when Dave turned the tables on him, and with such glee, such brute animal _strength_, he had one pure moment of panic.

Luckily for Dave, and Kurt's virginity, it was a moment that passed quickly.

As it turns out, young Master Neanderthal was pretty damn good with his tongue, too…

And his hands.

And let's not forget his lips.

Kurt was thrilled to learn that the passion he'd felt in that first kiss so long ago hadn't been a fluke and as overwrought and impatient as Dave _could_ have been (and was), he was also clearly intent, especially with the time Kurt's…help had bought him, on enjoying himself – and making sure that Kurt did, too.

He had Kurt's dove grey cashmere sweater off so quickly, Kurt didn't even have time to chastise him for stressing the knit and, Kurt was touched to note, rather than toss the precious garment onto the floor, he folded it awkwardly and laid it out on the old padded chair on the other side of the bed.

Sweater off, Dave started to work on the buttons of the white cotton oxford beneath it. Kneeling before him, hands shaking a little, Dave's face was intent and his brow was furrowed with concentration and uncertainty, but he was so focused, so fervent, so _determined_, that Kurt just melted at the sight of him. Reaching up to touch that broad face as Dave fumbled with the last button, Kurt leaned up to kiss him soundly.

With the tiniest moan of surrender in the back of his throat, Dave _enveloped_ him, guiding Kurt's body back against the pillows, then stretching out over him heavily with a sigh of pure relief, settling himself, _fitting_ _himself_, into every dip and plane of Kurt's body, never breaking the kiss, never losing contact.

_Oh, god, he feels so good…_

A moment later and Kurt was gasping for air; Dave was busy again. Lips to the side of Kurt's neck, he kissed a line down the smooth column, at the same time, running the fingers of his right hand up Kurt's shaking belly, tracing the lines of him with his fingertips. Lips and fingers met in the middle, circling where Kurt had peaked in response, and there, Dave stopped to worship, drawing first one, then the other inside wet heat and suction, teeth driving him mad, then soothing him with the flat of his tongue.

_He didn't…he didn't learn that from the video. I_ know_ that video and no one did _this_…_

Dave continued to suckle and Kurt arched into the sensation with a throaty moan, head back and buried in the pillows. Dave was running his hands frantically over Kurt's body as if desperate for it, circling behind, drawing him close, pressing himself into him again, insistent, _serious_.

Wherever their bodies met, heat was building, most especially where hip met hip. Kurt couldn't keep himself from moving, desperate for still more friction, agonized by the restriction even his silk boxers gave, by the little bit of Dave he could feel trapped between them, and as the rhythm increased, Dave met him, move for move. Letting his thighs fall away, he guided Dave closer, bucking up to meet him, frantic and aching and—

Dave had stopped moving, pulled lips away from his chest, breath harsh against the skin, instead laying his hand flat over Kurt's heart, holding him back that way.

When Kurt opened his eyes, Dave was breathing heavily, eyes half-lidded and cheeks flushed.

"_God, I want you"_ he breathed, bucking once for emphasis.

Kurt felt his brain go numb at the sensation.

Unable to form coherent words, he merely nodded mutely.

_Yes! YES! What are you waiting for?_

It was then that Dave Karofsky, in a somewhat illustrious career of it, said the stupidest thing he had ever said.

"Maybe we should slow things down a little bit?"

_What?_

"Are you _kidding_ me," Kurt hissed in frustration, trying to bite Dave's chin, a move the athlete dodged easily, what with Kurt pinned down by his…one palm. "You _just_ said you _wanted_ me – _you looked like you meant it, too_ – and _now_ you want to slow things down?" Kurt struggled for a moment against the hand. "Besides, I thought it was _my_ turn?" He made a grab for Dave's hips to pull him back down, but Dave had other plans.

"It is. _It is_…" Dave said, smiling serenely from where he hung suspended _(and way too high!)_ over Kurt's face. "I'm not the only one who isn't going to '_last long,'_ you know…" He leaned down, kissing Kurt's frustrated mouth quickly. "Trust me, it'll be okay. I'm a _fast_ learner…" Then he slid both hands down Kurt's belly.

Just when Kurt had been about to damn his testicles to hell, Dave was moving his hands again.

At first, Kurt jumped at the touch, over-sensitized as he was, but then he succumbed to the feeling, so deliberate, so strong. A moment later and those hands were tugging at the velvet waistband of his jeans. Keening with impatience, but pleased at this development, Kurt lifted his butt off the bed to help, squirming as Dave peeled both jeans and boxers off in one move.

He was chilled for the briefest moment, but forgot it when Dave picked up the line of kisses where he'd last left off, tracing down Kurt's belly with the tip of his tongue, so pleased by his own efforts that he was moaning in chorus with Kurt. He paused at Kurt's innie, making Kurt squirm for a moment (chuckling softly as he did so), then he was on his way.

Swallowing hard, Kurt struggled to support himself on his elbows so he could watch, but Dave was moving _ridiculously_ slowly (_how can he _do_ that?_) and Kurt was beginning to shake – from fatigue, from sensation – and so when Dave ran his big hands up Kurt's trembling thighs, Kurt got only the briefest view of the tip of Dave's tongue touching where Kurt rose up to meet him, before he lost strength and, shuddering, fell back against the pillows.

Thank _god_ he wasn't the only impatient one...

Dave stunned him by swallowing him whole and while Kurt admitted to not being much more than a mouthful, it was still impressive for a first-timer. (At least, that's what Kurt had gleaned from his hours of porn viewing…)

_But, yea, gods! Yea, Celine and Liza…_

Kurt wanted to_ sing_! This was the most glorious thing he had ever felt; hot wet suction, Dave's fingers stroking the oh-so sensitive skin beneath where his mouth was focused. Kurt found he could no longer fight the call of his hips; he began moving in counterpoint to Dave's attentions, grateful that Dave didn't hold him back this time, grateful for Dave's fingers and tongue, grateful for _Dave_, grateful for—

Suddenly, he was shouting and coming and laughing and coming and in the middle of all of that, Dave's hand clamped over his mouth.

"_Quiet! Quiet_," he hissed, eyes panicked even as he laughed. "My parents might not be home, but the old lady next door has really, really good hearing…"

Kurt licked his palm, moaning when he tasted himself there, and Dave just burst out laughing.

Dave pulled his hand away, but before Kurt could say anything, Dave was kissing him again and since Kurt had just been about to thank and compliment him, he was just as happy to do it _this_ way.

Sighing deeply, _gratified and satisfied_, as they say, Kurt was happy and looking forward to being even more so, but first there was a matter that needed rectifying immediately.

_Dave was still dressed…_

4


	9. Chapter 9

**Story: **Redemption – Part 5/6

**Chapter:** Research – part 4  
**Fandom: **Glee  
**Author:** ibshafer  
**Rating:** NC-17!  
**Character/Pairing:** Kurt/Karofsky

**Disclaimer:** I don't own these people, they own themselves and are just nice enough to let me spin them around the page now and then.  
**Summary:** …the waiting is over… This is it!  
**Warnings:** well, it's NC-17, so that sort of says it all, I think…  
**A/N:** The author does not in any way condone bullying or any form of aggression towards homosexuals, or anyone else, for that matter.

**A/N#2: **Sorry it'd been so long since I last updated this story! I was away over the holiday, but have been working on this, the longest bit of this chapter, since I got back - and it hasn't been easy. As much fun as real smut is to read, it's really, really hard to write. Hope you like the way it turned out. It's actually a lot more...um, explicit than I usually write, usually I fast forward through it all - panting and moaning, then *wal-lah!* afterglow. This time, because it was their first time, I took time. Again, hope you like it! One more chapter to this series and it'll be done. Hope you've enjoyed reading it as much as I've very much enjoyed writing it... _**ibs**_

Research – part 4

_- ibshafer_

[From part 3…]

_But, yea, gods! Yea, Celine and Liza…_

Kurt wanted to_ sing_! This was the most glorious thing he had ever felt; hot wet suction, Dave's fingers stroking the skin beneath where his mouth was focused. Kurt found he could no longer fight the call of his hips; he began moving in counterpoint to Dave's attentions, grateful that Dave didn't hold him back this time, grateful for Dave's fingers and tongue, grateful for _Dave_, grateful for—

He was shouting and coming and laughing and coming and in the middle of all of that, Dave's hand clamped over his mouth.

"_Quiet! Quiet_," he hissed, eyes panicked even as he laughed. "My parents might not be home, but the old lady next door has really, really good hearing…"

Kurt licked his palm, moaning when he tasted himself there, and Dave just burst out laughing.

He pulled his hand away, but before Kurt could say anything, Dave was kissing him again and since Kurt had been about to thank and compliment him, he was just as happy to do it _this_ way.

Sighing deeply, Kurt was happy and looking forward to being even more so, but first there was a matter that needed rectifying immediately.

_Dave was still dressed…_

Kurt slid his hands around, grabbing himself a couple handfuls, and Dave simultaneously moaned and laughed into the kiss. "_Impatient_, aren't we?"

"Off! _OFF_," was all Kurt was able to annunciate properly, pulling at the navy knit.

He'd been too…um, _busy_ before to actually _remove_ Dave's shorts, and then, when Dave had turned the tables on him, he'd been too…um, _preoccupied…_

He could certainly be forgiven for forgetting where he'd left off in the clothing removal protocols.

But Dave had actually pulled _away_ to look at him, he must have looked _rabid_ if the bemused, slightly self-satisfied expression on Dave's face was any indication, but still – he was _just_ watching him, _not_ touching him.

"_What?"_ Kurt glared at him. He started to pull at Dave's shorts again and Dave outright surprised him by _sliding off the bed entirely. _

The big jock seemed to be working to compose his face; he actually appeared to be trying to look _suggestive_, something that was not quite in his lexicon of facial expressions yet. Sure enough, after a few seconds, he was blushing and turning away to grin his laughter.

"What are you _doing?_" Kurt giggled, more amused, than impatient now. (Though the part of him still throbbing insistently between his legs would probably beg to differ…)

"You're not the only one who did research, you know," Dave said, giggles under control again. Crossing his hands at the hem of his shirt, he deftly wriggled out of the tight mesh by uncrossing and raising his arms up over his head in one smooth move.

_W-whoa…_

The scales had swung back around; Impatient was definitely in the lead again.

Kurt swallowed hard, unable to take his eyes off him. Dave Karofsky might be a big guy, but there was nothing…soft about him.

"O-oh, yeah?" he challenged, mouth suddenly gone dry.

"_Yeah._" Dave grabbed a bottle of water from his desk and opened it. "I didn't exactly have porn to watch, but I did find something interesting on Hulu…" His face was deadly serious, eyes glued to Kurt's. "T-this made a pretty…um, _big_ impression on me and I…I thought it might on you, too…"

_Deliberately._ That's the way Kurt could describe Dave's breathing right now, as though he was intentionally slowing it down, trying to set up a _rhythm_ or something. Whichever, as he did so, his eyes had lasered in on Kurt's, staring at him from beneath those gorgeous arched brows, and Kurt suddenly felt very _exposed_ – naked, wanting, _pinned_ to the bed.

He was also thinking that there was something oddly familiar about what Dave was doing. He couldn't pin it down, but the uncertainty, and the drop-dead dead-sexiness, thrilled him to his toes.

With a quick twist, Dave suddenly unscrewed the cap of the water bottle, held it over his head, and poured the whole thing onto himself.

_Oh-oh, god…_

He was fully hard in an instant.

If he hadn't been utterly speechless, he would have complimented Dave on his choice of inspiration. Long ago, Brian Kinney and the boys from Queer as Folk had opened up a world to him and _now…_

_Ah…_

His hand strayed into his lap – the water threading its way down Dave's golden torso had his mouth watering – when suddenly Karofsky burst out laughing.

"Guess I shoulda gotten the 16-ounce, not the 2-liter, huh?"

Oblivious to the effect he was having on Kurt, Dave was looking at the puddle forming around his feet, swearing softly under his breath.

"Shit! Gonna have to drag the friggin' shop vac up—"

Kurt didn't let him finish.

They could worry about drying out the faded shag later; right now Dave's goofy mouth needed kissing.

By the time Kurt let him up for air, they were both breathing heavily and neither one cared about the carpeting.

"Dave?" Kurt whispered, voice more air than sound.

"Um…uh-huh?"

"How-how about we throw out our research and…just do what feels _right_?" He snaked the tip of his tongue out to wet his lips, Dave's eyes tracking the move closely.

"You mean, like _this_," Dave asked hoarsely. Eyes locked on Kurt's, he slid both hands down Kurt's bare back. Settling on his ass, he pulled Kurt close, hard and fast, making them both gasp.

_Oh!_

Kurt could barely breath, could barely think straight. There was heat everywhere they came together and the feeling of Dave, all umpteen inches of him, pressed tightly against him – _length against length_ – was the most incredible thing he had ever felt.

"_Y-yes,_" Kurt responded, fighting the urge to let his eyes roll back into his head. "Or-or even like _this,_" he whispered, slipping his arms around Dave's neck, the fingers of one hand threading into Dave's short hair to pull him closer. There was the tiniest sound in the back of Dave's throat, and then he surrendered to it.

The kiss was hungry and sweet, all at once, Dave's tongue gentle against his, even as he ground his quite evident bliss against Kurt's equally evident joy. Hanging on for dear life, Kurt threw his head back, gasping for breath as Dave sucked desperately at his ear lobe, his neck, the cleft of his chin, his mouth.

When Kurt opened his eyes again, Dave's were fixed on his; breathless, Dave inclined his chin toward the bed, Kurt responded with an equally breathless nod.

When he felt the comforter against the back of his calves, he sat down with a bounce, finding himself once again face to face with navy blue knit. The fabric did little to disguise Dave's arousal, outlining it, accentuating it; _mesmerizing_ Kurt and leaving him fairly certain he'd never seen anything so beautiful in all his life…

Pulling himself out of the trance, he looked up and raised an eyebrow in inquiry, then decided not to wait for a response; slipping his fingers into the waist band, he pulled it towards him, out of deference, and _reverence_, for Dave's condition, before pulling down. Eyes still glued to the prize, he guided the shorts down blindly and Dave obliged with a little wiggle to speed progress, the effect of which delighted Kurt.

_Bounce!_

Mouth watering, he slid his hands up Dave's furry thighs, leaned in with a deep sigh and opened his mouth.

He was just about to have a _taste_ when Dave slipped a hand under his chin and shook his head _'no.'_

_Wait - no?_

Before he could ask him why, Dave was pressing him back into the mattress, mouth and tongue against his, one hand slipped into his hair. His strong hips worked slowly, moving them, slick, against each other, and Kurt whimpered deep in his throat. The hand slid down Kurt's trembling body until it found them both, wrapping itself around them, pulling, pressing, thumbing…

The whimper became a moan and Kurt was gasping for air.

Lips against his skin, suckling at the juncture of shoulder and neck, then lower, to nibble at a swollen nub, Dave withdrew his hand, dialing back his efforts; pulling away to gaze into Kurt's flushed face, he reverently traced the line of his lips with a finger tip, and with a barely perceptible nod, slipped one, then two, inside.

Kurt moaned against them, as much from the _sensation_ as from the understanding of why he was doing it.

_He didn't learn this from _my_ porn, and certainly not from Brian Kinney…_

Dave was sucking at his throat now, teeth grazing his adam's apple and when Kurt moaned at the sensation, he heard Karofsky moan in response, perhaps to the feeling of it vibrating beneath his lips.

_Oh-oh _god!_ Who cares where he learned it. He's a sexual savant, that's what he is…_

Letting his thighs fall away, Kurt pulled Dave in closer with his heels, bucking up against him – _so hard, so hot_. Dave withdrew his fingers from Kurt's mouth, replacing them with his lips. While he traced the roof of Kurt's mouth with the tip of his tongue, his fingers slid down Kurt's belly, paused to gather moisture from both weeping heads, then slipped down below and beyond. Circling for a moment, teasing, he carefully pushed past resistance, first one and then, when it was easier, another.

Kurt was whimpering steadily now, frantically working himself against the press of fingers and the pull of palm and when he could stand it no longer, he pulled his mouth away from Dave's.

"_You_, Dave. No more fingers! _I want_ _you_…"

With an effort, Dave disengaged himself and sat back panting. "Are you sure," he asked, though from the look of him, he couldn't have _survived_ a _'no.'_

Body mourning the loss of sensation, Kurt glared at him in utter disbelief. "Are-are you _kidding?_"

_How can he just sit there like that – big chest heaving, and god, he's so hard…_

"Yeah. Yeah, I _was_," Dave snorted, though he seemed rather uncomfortable. "I went for the laugh. Not a good time?"

_What?_

Kurt thought his head was going to explode.

"Have you been reading the _"How to Ruin the Mood" Handbook_, Dave Karofsky?" Exasperated, Kurt threw himself back amongst the pillows. "I don't get you! I just don't get you."

In an instant, Dave was back on the bed, big body covering his, both hands on Kurt's face, in his hair, kissing him with such force, such purpose, that Kurt forgot to breathe.

Kurt could feel Dave's heart hammering away in his chest – or was it his own? – feel his hips, feel his _heat_, feel the utter seriousness, the utter _reverence_ with which he was touching him.

"Do you have any idea how much I _want_ you, Kurt Hummel," he whispered, all trace of humor vanished. "I've wanted you since the 6th grade when you walked across the playground in those pink jeans of yours. I've wanted you since before I knew what it _meant_." He paused, stroking Kurt's cheek with his thumb. "If I didn't…if I didn't _stop_ us every so often…I'm really afraid of what I might _do_ to you."

_Oh, he's afraid he'll…_

Kurt was touched beyond words, but a part of him also wondered if Dave's attempts to hold back weren't tied to his guilt over the sometimes violent way he'd taken his frustrations out on Kurt not so long ago – and to Kurt's apparent PTS over it.

_Oh, Dave…_

He didn't know how to say _'I wouldn't be here right now if I were still scared,'_ without raising the specter once again, so instead, he just leaned up and kissed Dave softly.

"I'm not some porcelain doll, Dave," he said. "And I'm not some girl. I'm not going to break." With a devilish grin, he leaned up again, closing his teeth on the jut of Dave's chin. "I'm not scared of you, Dave Karofsky." He grabbed a handful of butt cheek and squeezed _hard_. "Maybe _you're_ the one who should be scared."

"Oh, yeah?" Dave's laughter was full-on and infectious. It resonated through his body and set off vibrations in Kurt's. "I'm willing to chance it." His hands were in Kurt's hair again; he seemed to really love feeling it between his fingers. _"Shall we?"_

Nodding, Kurt felt his face suddenly redden in embarrassment. Even after all they'd done – _they'd been lying, naked, against each other for for_ever_ now_ – he was reminded of just how momentous this act truly was. What it meant to him. What it meant to them both.

_I couldn't share this, this first time, with anyone else, Dave Karofsky._

Their eyes met for a moment, a moment of understanding and _longing_, and then Dave took a deep breath, reaching over to the night stand to grab a square packet and the slender black bottle he placed there earlier.

For a moment Dave looked unsure of himself and when Kurt moved to help, he blushed gratefully. Kurt tore the package open, looked up briefly to catch Dave's eye and smile, then bent and rolled it on. The feel of the length in his hands was intoxicating and Kurt would have liked to linger, perhaps slip it into his mouth again, but Dave's breathing was growing more ragged and he sensed that in spite of their past efforts to let off steam _–_ _Dave didn't have long. _

He knew he didn't have long himself…

Sliding back onto the bed, bottle in hand, he drew Dave towards him with a raised brow.

Upending the bottle, he squeezed some of the liquid into Dave's trembling hand then leaning forward, kissed him deliberately and very deeply. Dave was breathless when Kurt released him, but seemed to have regained his confidence.

Pressing Kurt back onto the comforter, he hovered over him, dipping down to nip at Kurt's shoulder and run his tongue over the hollow of his throat, at the same time working Kurt's thighs apart with his knees, palming his heat with one hand while slicking his own with the other. Kurt drew breath in sharply through clenched teeth when Dave's oiled fingers once again teased at his resistance, but he was soon relaxed and whimpering insistently, working himself heatedly against two, then three, and when he reached out to grab Dave's arousal and pull, Dave gasped, then giggled nervously.

_Message received…_

It took some negotiating, but eventually they found the position and arrangement that worked best for them both. Dave was slow and careful, teasing with the tip, then withdrawing, moving in a bit, then resting, pulling out, then slipping back in. It was painful for them both, for different reasons, but after a few minutes, Dave lay flush against him, chest heaving from restraint, kissing Kurt deeply to draw his focus from the pain.

A moment later and Kurt couldn't stop himself from _moving_ and with a sharp intake of breath, Dave was moving with him, slowly at first, _carefully,_ but when Kurt grabbed at his butt cheeks and _pulled_, bucking up to meet him, Dave giggled and picked up the pace.

Filled with sensation, filled with _Dave_, filled with curiosity about this new world of discovery they had both just entered, Kurt knew they would have to save the real exploration for the next time. This _first_ time wouldn't be a lyrical and beautiful coming together of two young men who desired each other deeply (though the casual observer would no doubt _heartily_ disagree), it would be, now that they'd bridged this last hurdle, a heated, frantic, sweating race to the finish that would nonetheless satisfy them both utterly and leave them breathless and moaning their bliss for several minutes to come. (And not without a hand clamped briefly over Kurt's mouth to muffle his joyous screaming.)

It wasn't long, though, before certain realities had begun to seep into Kurt's consciousness, even as spent and as giddy as he was. For instance, he'd made a mental note of the time this last…phase had begun and from start to raucous finish, a mere five minutes had passed, counting…um, prep time. Self confidence wasn't usually a problem he had to contend with, but this had been his _first time_ and he couldn't help wondering if it hadn't, as they say, really been _all that_, after all.

"W-was…was it…" Kurt was having a hard time annunciating again, a problem compounded by the apparent lack of oxygen in the room – and his reluctance to actually ask the question.

"W-was what…_what_?" The O2 drop seemed to be affecting Dave just as badly.

They were both hanging over the side of the bed, Dave half draped over Kurt's slender, and now boneless, frame. Turning his head so he could look Dave in the eye, no easy feat in his current state, he drew in a shuddering breath, screwed up his courage, and repeated, this time more clearly, "W-was it worth the wait?"

Dave looked at him like he'd suddenly been rendered in Leggos…then he grabbed him in those big hands of his, rolling him over and gathering him to his broad chest.

"Are you _kidding_," he asked, kissing Kurt's sweaty forehead. "Every, single minute – _all two months and seven years of it!"_ And then, because Kurt had Confused Face on, Dave added, _"Pink jeans on the playground?" _

"I _rocked_ those jeans." Kurt smiled and yawned at the same time.

"I _know_," Dave said, lips on Kurt's neck, one hand slipping between his cheeks again.

"Hey, don't you think _two times_ is enough for now," Kurt asked, making a half-hearted attempt to pull himself out of Dave's strong grasp.

"_Three_ times," Dave said, tongue tracing the thread of a pulse port, now gaining speed again.

"No, no, no." Kurt was shaking his head now. "You did. Then I did. Then we did. That's twice each. _Ow!_" Dave was suckling at that shoulder/neck juncture again and had gotten carried away.

"No, _I_ did when _you_ did, so for _me_, it's three."

_You what?_

"When _I _did?"

Dave looked up, nodding. "_I_ did."

_I repeat, you what?_

This didn't seem to make sense to Kurt at all.

"_Really?"_

Dave wet his lips. "_Oh,_ _yeah_."

_Still – no sense._

His mouth was trying to form the question, but he still couldn't quite wrap his brain around it.

Dave, ever perceptive, came to his rescue.

"You were just so, so _beautiful_ – face all flushed, eyes screwed shut, so _into_ what I was doing to you – and you were making…th-these _noises_ that just made my _toes_ curl—"

"I thought you said I was making too much noise?"

"Well, I didn't want to old lady next door to hear you – but that didn't mean _I _didn't like it." He slipped a hand between them, wrapping his fingers around him, smiling when Kurt gasped. "Heeey… Now that I think of it, we're not even. I _owe_ you one."

Because the oxygen situation in the room hadn't really improved yet (and Dave was quickly stroking Kurt to _brainless_), Kurt just looked at him, confused.

"One _what_?"

And that was all he got to ask before Dave had swallowed him whole again and he was fighting for air. Dave was a wild man – _after all that, how could he still be a wild man?._ Kurt found himself whimpering as Dave stroked the skin beneath where he was working, then spouting gibberish when the fingers kept moving downward, moving within, _moving... _

Before his eyes rolled back into his head, he caught a quick glimpse of the clock – 10:40 pm.

At the pace Dave was setting, he expected to be screaming, no doubt with a hand clamped over his mouth in, oh, two minutes…

_That's okay…_

They had plenty of time to learn how to slow down.

Fini

10


	10. Chapter 10

**Story: **Redemption – Part 1/?

**Chapter:** The Reveal

**Fandom: **Glee  
**Author:** ibshafer  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Character/Pairing:** Kurt/Karofsky

**Disclaimer:** I don't own these people, they own themselves and are just nice enough to let me spin them around the page now and then.  
**Summary:** Redemption finally comes for Dave Karofsky…  
**Warnings:** spoilers for NBK and after  
**A/N:** The author does not in any way condone bullying or any form of aggression towards homosexuals, or anyone else, for that matter.

**A/N#2: ****The pivotal scene in this story was actually inspired by something I was fortunate enough to witness. Last spring, during a village-wide yard sale in the tiny upstate New York hamlet my sister lives in, a pair of preteen boys came walking down the street. Unlike everyone else, gripped by yard-sale fever, these two were not shopping, not lingering at the tables, not poking through the boxes of toys and games and dishes like everyone else. The boys, who I'd say were probably about twelve or thirteen, were walking very purposely down the block. They didn't interact with anyone and they had no interest in the tables of treasure they were passing; they seemed entirely focused on the act of ****_walking_**** from one end of the block to the other. These two boys were dressed in typical teen attire – cargo pants and gaming logo t-shirts – and they might have gone unnoticed in this very typical gathering of people, but for one thing; ****_they were holding hands_****. I stood back and watched them, completely taken by what seemed to me to be an act of utter courage and defiance; as though the boys had made a pact to make this very public statement, ****_together_****, in a place where the most people would witness it, to a cross-section of their community (not just school, not just the mall, not just church). There was something very thrilling and sweet to this act. I imagined their giddiness as they worked up the courage to round that corner and take each other's hands, and when they reached the end of the block and disappeared from view, I imagined them giggling and running the rest of the way back to one of their houses, tripping up the stairs to the bedroom to celebrate by making out for a few minutes before flipping the Xbox back on and picking up where they'd left off, distracting themselves for a while from whatever shit storm may have been to follow when the phone started ringing or parents stormed home. I thought these two boys incredible brave, and incredibly sweet. I have not been able to get them, and their courageous march down that small-town street, out of my head and I'm happy now to be able to share their story with all of you – and with Dave and Kurt. ****_–ibs_**

Redemption: The Reveal – Part 1

_- ibshafer_

"You ready?" Kurt squeezed Dave's hand.

"As I'll _ever_ be." Dave didn't sound so sure.

Kurt was feeling sick himself, actually, but they'd been planning this for a week now and everyone was already in place – no matter how worried he was, this "show" was going on whether either of them was ready or not.

_I _must_ be scared; not even the showbiz metaphors are helping. _

Dave's hand was unnaturally cold as he rubbed slow circles in Kurt's palm with his thumb, and when Kurt looked up at him, Dave nonetheless smiled a tentative smile at him that was so heartbreakingly _beautiful_ that Kurt almost started to cry. Though he was getting better at, Dave Karofsky had never been known for having a way with words, but this time, his expression said it all.

'_I'm here with you. It's gonna be okay.'_

Trying to fathom how Dave could be so reassuring when he had more at stake here than Kurt did, Kurt smiled and nodded in response, suddenly feeling something warm and expansive in the middle of his chest.

_Wow…_

_I-I kind of _love_ you, Dave Karosfky, you know that?_

Of course Dave _wouldn't_ know that; it was rather a new thing to know, born as it had been a mere second ago.

He'd known, of course, how Dave felt about _him_ since that fateful night in the Dalton Academy parking lot two months.

'"_I love you! __…I just wanted to tell you that. I don't expect anything from you, I just wanted you to know…"'_

Under different circumstances, he would have just blurted out this more recent realization – Kurt was a _blurter_, afterall – but they had enough on their plate right now as it was.

Now was for revelations of a slightly different, though not wholly unrelated, nature.

_If we make it through this day without any broken bones, it's the first thing I'm going to tell him…_

They'd parked on the street because it gave them a wider vantage point to watch the incoming student body. When the steady stream had slowed to a trickle, they'd make their move.

In the meantime, they sat in the relative safety of Kurt's SUV, with its handy shaded windows, which was doubly good because if the jocks, Neanderthals like Azimio and Taylor, could see the way the veins in Dave's forehead were throbbing, they would have been all over him, like sharks after that drop of blood in the water.

Bravado to the contrary, Dave was nervous as hell.

He had every reason to be.

What they were about to do would change the course of his life – _forever_. No more hiding behind his jock persona, no more covering up who he really was with tossed slushies and threats of the Fury; the bully everyone hated and was scared of was about to exit stage whatever.

McKinnley High was about to meet the _real_ Dave Karofsky – _for the first time…_

Despite the decidedly dramatic cast to their plan, it actually hadn't been Kurt's idea at all.

No one can tell someone else when it's Time; it's a personal decision they have to make for themselves.

Kurt had been protecting Dave's secret, except when given permission to divulge it, since that fateful day in the Principal's office and he had been prepared to keep his secret boyfriend – and _Dave's_ secret – hidden until Dave was ready to reveal it.

He was used to avoiding contact with "Karofsky" at school; it'd be harder now, because his natural inclination, especially after last weekend, was to _touch_ Dave as much as possible, but Kurt was willing to do it, to bite his lip and steer clear of Dave until Dave was Ready, _however_ long that took.

So, on the second morning of their first real weekend together, when Dave had announced, after a very erotic session of breakfast in bed, wherein actual breakfast was in fact consumed (following which they'd spent a good thirty minutes scrubbing maple syrup out of his sheets), that he wanted everyone, and he meant Everyone, to Know, Kurt couldn't have been happier.

Of course, that happiness was short-lived, as they began to run down the list of just Who that Everyone entailed and just How involved their Plan would have to be, but Kurt was a planner (which meant he thrived on the details) and Dave was a bulldog, (which meant he never gave up or let go) and somehow here they were, a scant week later, ready to set that plan in motion.

Kurt squeezed the big hand that engulfed his and looked up at this boy that he, apparently, loved.

"Do you trust me," Kurt asked, flushed and, though they'd been sitting motionless for half and hour, a little out of breath.

Dave's cheeks colored in response. "I was just about to ask you the same thing."

For some reason, everything they said or did these days brought back memories of the past two months, as though each event, each word, were adding to some greater whole; to the story of Kurt and Dave.

'"_Oh, I'm pretty sure I can't trust you…"'_

"…Only about as far as I could throw you, Dave" Kurt said and Dave's eyes crinkled at the remembered reference.

'"_at, what, 250, I'm thinking I couldn't throw you too far…"'_

With one last squeeze, Dave dropped his hand and nodded towards the school. "What do you say we do this?"

Locking the car, they walked across the parking lot.

…_to McKinley…_

tbc…

4


	11. Chapter 11

**Story: **Redemption – Part 6/6

**Chapter:** Roses Redux

**Fandom: **Glee  
**Author:** ibshafer  
**Rating:** PG-13 – language (David's potty mouth…)  
**Character/Pairing:** Kurt/Karofsky

**Disclaimer:** I don't own these people, they own themselves and are just nice enough to let me spin them around the page now and then.  
**Summary:** Redemption finally comes for Dave Karofsky…  
**Warnings:** spoilers for NBK and after  
**A/N:** The author does not in any way condone bullying or any form of aggression towards homosexuals, or anyone else, for that matter.

**A/N#2: ****The pivotal scene in this story was actually inspired by something I was fortunate enough to witness. Last spring, during a village-wide yard sale in the tiny upstate New York hamlet my sister lives in, a pair of preteen boys came walking down the street. Unlike everyone else, gripped by yard-sale fever, these two were not shopping, not lingering at the tables, not poking through the boxes of toys and games and dishes like everyone else. The boys, who I'd say were probably about twelve or thirteen, were walking very purposely down the block. They didn't interact with anyone and they had no interest in the tables of treasure they were passing; they seemed entirely focused on the act of ****_walking_**** from one end of the block to the other. These two boys were dressed in typical teen attire – cargo pants and gaming logo t-shirts – and they might have gone unnoticed in this very typical gathering of people, but for one thing; ****_they were holding hands_****. I stood back and watched them, completely taken by what seemed to me to be an act of utter courage and defiance; as though the boys had made a pact to make this very public statement, ****_together_****, in a place where the most people would witness it, to a cross-section of their community (not just school, not just the mall, not just church). There was something very thrilling and sweet to this act. I imagined their giddiness as they worked up the courage to round that corner and take each other's hands, and when they reached the end of the block and disappeared from view, I imagined them giggling and running the rest of the way back to one of their houses, tripping up the stairs to the bedroom to celebrate by making out for a few minutes before flipping the Xbox back on and picking up where they'd left off, distracting themselves for a while from whatever shit storm may have been to follow when the phone started ringing or parents stormed home. I thought these two boys incredible brave, and incredibly sweet. I have not been able to get them, and their courageous march down that small-town street, out of my head and I'm happy now to be able to share their story with all of you – and with Dave and Kurt. ****_–ibs_**

**[Note: I'm posting this chapter in its entirety because of some serious rewriting of the bits I'd already posted. I'd also like to take this opportunity to thank you all for receiving this series so well – you've made me want to write it and to write more. I can't thank you guys enough for all your comments and support, for the hits and favorites and alerts and for really making me feel like you were reading and enjoying it. By way of thanks, I'll be writing a bonus chapter in the coming weeks; pure post-Redemption PWP. ****_Stay tuned…_****]**

Redemption: Roses Redux

_- ibshafer_

"You ready?" Kurt squeezed Dave's hand.

"As I'll _ever_ be." Dave didn't sound so sure.

Kurt was feeling sick himself, actually, but they'd been planning this for a week now and everyone was already in place – no matter how worried he was, this "show" was going on whether either of them was ready or not.

_I _must_ be scared; not even the showbiz metaphors are helping. _

Dave's hand was unnaturally cold as he rubbed slow circles in Kurt's palm with a thumb, and when Kurt looked up at him, Dave smiled a tentative smile at him that was so heartbreakingly _beautiful_ that Kurt almost started to cry. Though he was getting better at, Dave Karofsky had never been known for having a way with words, but this time, his expression said it all.

'_I'm here with you. It's gonna be okay.'_

Trying to fathom how Dave could be so reassuring when he had more at stake here than Kurt did, Kurt smiled and nodded in response, suddenly feeling something warm and expansive in the middle of his chest.

_Wow…_

_I-I kind of _love_ you, Dave Karosfky._

He'd known, of course, how Dave felt about _him_ since that fateful night in the Dalton parking lot two months ago.

'"_I love you… __I just wanted to tell you that. I don't expect anything from you, I just wanted you to know…"'_

And now…_now_ he knew what that felt like.

Under different circumstances, Kurt would have just blurted it out right then – Kurt was a _blurter_, afterall – but they had enough on their plate right now as it was.

Now was for revelations of a slightly different, though not wholly unrelated, nature.

_If we make it through this day without any broken bones, it's the first thing I'm going to tell him…_

They'd parked on the street because it gave them a wider vantage point to watch the incoming student body. When the steady stream had slowed to a trickle, they would make their move.

In the meantime, they sat in the relative safety of Kurt's SUV, with its handy shaded windows, which was doubly good because if the jocks, Neanderthals like Azimio and Taylor, could see the way the veins in Dave's forehead were throbbing, they would have been all over him, like sharks after that drop of blood in the water…

Bravado to the contrary, Dave was nervous as _hell_.

He had every reason to be.

What they were about to do would change the course of his life – _forever_. No more hiding behind his jock persona, no more covering up who he really was with tossed slushies and threats of the Fury; the bully everyone hated and feared was about to exit stage whatever.

McKinnley High was about to meet the _real_ Dave Karofsky _for the first time…_

Kurt had been protecting Dave's secret since that fateful day in the Principal's office. Despite the decidedly dramatic cast to their plan, it actually hadn't been Kurt's idea at all; no, this had all been _Dave's idea_…

No one can tell someone else when it's Time. It's a personal decision they have to make for themselves. Kurt had been prepared to keep his secret boyfriend – and _Dave's_ secret – hidden until Dave was ready to reveal it. He was used to avoiding contact with "Karofsky" at school; it'd be harder now, because his natural inclination, especially after last weekend, was to _touch_ Dave as much as possible, but Kurt was willing to do it, to bite his lip and steer clear of Dave until Dave was Ready, _however_ long that took.

So, on the second morning of their first real weekend together, when Dave had announced, after a very erotic session of breakfast in bed, wherein actual breakfast was in fact consumed (following which they'd spent a good thirty minutes scrubbing maple syrup out of his sheets, but it'd been _so_ worth it…), that he wanted everyone, and he meant Everyone, to Know, Kurt couldn't have been happier.

Of course, that happiness was short-lived, as they began to run down the list of just Who that Everyone entailed and just How involved their Plan would have to be, but Kurt was a planner (which meant he thrived on the details) and Dave was a bulldog (which meant he never gave up or let go), and somehow here they were, a scant week later, ready to set that plan in motion.

Kurt squeezed the big hand that engulfed his and looked up at this boy that he, apparently, _loved_.

"Do you trust me," Kurt asked, flushed and, though they'd been sitting motionless for half and hour, a little out of breath.

Dave's cheeks colored in response. "I was just about to ask you the same thing."

For some reason, everything they said or did these days brought back memories of the past two months, as though each event, each word, were adding to some greater whole; to the story of Kurt and Dave.

'"_Oh, I'm pretty sure I can't trust you…"'_

"…Only about as far as I could throw you, Dave" Kurt said and Dave's eyes crinkled at the remembered reference.

'"_at, what, 250, I'm thinking I couldn't throw you too far…"'_

With one last squeeze, Dave dropped Kurt's hand and nodded towards the school. "What do you say we do this?"

Locking the car, they walked across the parking lot.

…_to McKinley…_

[SECTION BREAK]

It had been a week full of Conversations, each more difficult than the last, but they had a plan, a _series_ of plans, really, all leading up to the big reveal (or "the Show", as Kurt had come to call it), and while it was all scary and, at times, all _screamy_, it was also all necessary.

It had taken some doing and it had _not _been fun, but _everyone_ was on board, which was a huge relief because if they were going to pull this off, they were going to need _everyone's_ help.

It was time for Kurt to come back to McKinley. It was time for Dave to come out of that giant Narnia-sized closet he'd been hiding in.

And it was time for them, _as_ a Them, to come out of yet another closet, the one that let the people they loved, the people they knew, …and the people they expected to have _problems_ with them _as _a Them, know_ that they were_ _no longer_ Dave Karofsky, hockey/football playing badass and Fury-ous homo-bullying bully, and Kurt Hummel, trend-setting style-maven and all-singing, all-dancing Queer Boy, but were now just Dave and Kurt, hand-holding, lunchroom sitting, friends slash lovers – _whether anyone freaking liked it or not._

[SECTION BREAK]

The walk from the car to the building had been calm, in the same way that that pure moment of vacuum-like stillness preceding a _hurricane_ was calm – it gave them the chance to bolster themselves, but neither was delusional enough to doubt the shit storm to come.

Having made the walk from the parking lot and climbed the stairs into the school, they were now perched on the top step, _balanced_ on the precipice; each laid a hand on the heavy wooden door before them and gathered themselves for what was to come.

On the walk up, Kurt's heart had been beating so fast he thought it might just leap out of his chest and _beat_ them inside and it had taken everything he had not to run back to the car or, failing that, to grab Dave's big warm hand for strength.

But that wasn't in the script and though Kurt liked to improvise as much as the next scene-stealer, he didn't want to ruin the show. They had planned this out too carefully. Any deviation could result in chaos and, realistically, broken bones…

The one consolation he could draw from the now imminent start of the Show was that he wouldn't have to resist that last desperate impulse anymore. The urge to grab Dave's hand was edging towards extreme.

"You _okay?_"

He twitched at the sound of Dave's voice then turned to find Dave smiling at him, again, his own angst taking a backseat to his concern for Kurt.

_You're a good boyfriend, Dave Karofsky…_

And because he was tired of keeping his internal monologue…_internal_, he smiled shakily, and repeated it aloud.

"You're a good boyfriend, Dave Karofsky," he said, softly, pleased when he saw Dave's cheeks flush a beautiful rose; his _own_ cheeks burned. "I want to kiss you so badly right now, I can't stand it."

Embarrassed, but covering his obvious pleasure with a schoolboy's rolled eyes, Dave just shook his head.

"You're gonna have to wait on that one for a bit, 'K? We've got a, _you_ know, a _show_ to do," he said, clearly unaccustomed to entertainment metaphors. Taking a deep shuddering breath, he smiled, holding out his hand.

_Finally, _his hand.

"_Ready?"_

Fighting back tears – at the emotion, at the moment – Kurt nodded, bit his lip, and took his boyfriend's hand…

[SECTION BREAK]

At first, nothing happened.

No one seemed to notice, caught up as they were in the business of trading coats for books, of catching up on the weekend's news, on being in their own lives and their own heads, but one-by-one, like a pinball bouncing through its tilted terrain, faces looked up and saw them passing by, and awareness _(confusion, shock, amusement)_ crisscrossed the narrow hallway, spread quickly by elbow jabs and whispered voices.

He was able to pick up a few comments as they moved down the hall. Most were stunned (_"Karofsky and Hummel are __**holding hands**__?", "WTF, dude? I thought he hated Hummel…"_), some were clearly _fangirls_, (_"Awwww, they're so __**cute**__…"), _and others had very definite opinions they made no attempt to keep to themselves, (_"Fuck, that's disgusting!" "…knew Hummel was a fag, but __**Karofsky**__? Shit!"_).

Once or twice, Kurt felt the panic rising in him and Dave, sensing that tremor through their joined hands, squeezed tighter. When Kurt looked his way, he winked.

As they made their way down the hall, the crowd parting a bit in stupefied awe at the inexplicable incongruity of bully and victim, _lion and lamb,_ strolling hand-in-hand for all to see, _they began to collect followers._

At first, it was just strategically placed glee club members – Finn, Mercedes, and Rachel stepping out from the choir room, Brit pushing Artie's wheelchair out of one of the bio labs – all their faces defiant and flushed with the power of solidarity – but as their glee numbers grew, they began to draw more random followers: those curious about how this aberrant relationship had come to be; those unsure how to respond except that they were offended; those of morbid curiosity, like rubber neckers driving past an accident, hoping to see something grisly first hand…

Call it a twist of fate, call it a climactic plot device, but their destination, the setting for the last act of the Show, _Kurt's locker_, was at the far end of the long hallway; maximum exposure, maximum dramatic effect.

Kurt was trembling so hard already he didn't know how he'd make it that far.

_At least we won't have to do this more than once… _

Anyone who wasn't there now to see them would surely get tweeted, IM'd, or emailed before too long. He'd seen at least one person hold up a phone as they walked past; he was fairly certain they'd be able to watch their "performance" on YouTube when they got home from school…

As they swept through the school, holding each other's hands like a lifeline, Kurt struggled to maintain his cool, taking his cues from Dave who exuded a calm Kurt would not have thought him capable of before today.

_Calm and __**happy**__…_

He allowed himself the briefest moment of satisfaction. The _old_ Dave hadn't been a happy individual, not like _New_ Dave, and Kurt, who was just as happy and just as surprised to be so, couldn't help but take a little credit for it.

He blushed for a moment as the triple-X reel in his head started to unspool unbidden, but then someone's hissed _"Get a room!"_ brought him back to the present, giving him even more to be flushed about; had his face given him away or had it just been a general comment upon seeing two gay boys holding hands?

A gentle hand tug from Dave and an inquiry via raised-eyebrow – Kurt's response a sheepish grin and a shrug – and he once again had control of his panic. Dave was like that, an anchor, a rock; quite the change from his days as a bomb-waiting-to-go-off. Kurt felt the warm spot in his chest start to spin, once again aware of how very much he loved this boy.

_We're good for each __**other**__…_

Walking down the hallway, a studied attempt at oblivious – whatever fear or exhilaration that were feeling _could not yet show_ – Kurt worked to _master_ this most difficult role, one that Dave, game face in place, seemed to have down pat.

He knew darn well, though, that the couple hundred feet they'd traversed had been _easy_; they hadn't passed the locker room yet…

[SECTION BREAK]

In the end, it was as bad as they'd expected…

One minute, they were holding hands and thinking that perhaps they'd underestimated the jocks, the next, he was being torn away from Dave, his head and shoulders making painful and familiar contact with the bank of lockers, one of which just happened to be his own.

At this point, nearly the entire student body – all that would fit, anyway – was crammed into this stretch of hallway, and from the gathered crowd there came cruel laughter and cat calls, and from their friends, admonishments and angry cries.

And much, much too close to his, the angry grimacing face of Azimio Adams.

"What the _fuck_ are you doing with my _boy_, Hummel?" Azimio spat out, disgust on his face as he looked from Kurt to his _'boy'_. "What'd I tell you about trying to infect us with your gay?"

"You're kidding, right? What self-respecting homosexual would _want_ to infect you with, what you so eloquently put, their_ "gay"_? You're not exactly the stuff that boys' dreams are made of, you know…"

That's what he _meant_ to say, anyway.

Before he could even get the first word out, Dave had grabbed the linebacker by the shoulders and swung him back around until Az's broad back had made rattling contact with the bank of metal lockers.

"Keep your hands _off of him_, Azimio!" There was something like pain in Dave's voice, even as his brute strength kept the linebacker pressed up against the wall of lockers, and it saddened Kurt to realize that Dave had clearly been hoping Az would surprise them; that he would accept their relationship – and this new incarnation of Dave Karofsky.

"_You don't fucking touch him, you hear me?"_ Dave leaned forward, anger and menace in his eyes. "You don't lay a _hand_ on him! You got a _problem_, you deal with _me_!"

For his part, Az seemed unruffled by Dave's display of bravado; what he _really_ seemed was _disgusted_. He raked his gaze, cold eyes conveying that disgust, over Kurt, then back at his now former friend, a friend who still had his forearm braced against Az's chest, holding him against the lockers.

"_Okay," _Az said evenly and then, with his own explosion of strength, he freed himself from Dave's hold, turning the tables quickly, slamming Dave against the wall. Out of the corner of his eye, Kurt saw his step-brother being held back by Puck and Mike Chang, and he knew Dave must have warned them all; this was _his_ fight, not Finn's, not anyone else's. "Okay," Az repeated, forearm against David's throat. "You wanna tell _me_ why you were holding that _fag's_ hand, then?"

All semblance of calm control was gone and Kurt could almost see Dave's eyes glowing in anger. Kurt wanted to jump on that asshole's back, claw at his eyes, kick him in the nuts, anything to get him off of Dave, but Dave had warned him this would happen and he'd made Kurt swear he wouldn't get into the fight. _"'You get hurt, Kurt, and I'm not gonna be able to control myself. That's not gonna be good for either of us, you understand?"' _Kurt had been reluctant, but he'd agreed; Dave was dead serious – what _choice_ did he have?

Now he regretted it bitterly, considered breaking his promise – _Dave's face was too red for comfort!_ – but then he caught a glimpse of Dave's eyes over Az's massive shoulders, whites showing all around, and fixed, not on his attacker, but on _Kurt_. A minute headshake and what Kurt could swear was the tiniest wink – and Az was propelled across the room, the crowd alone keeping his ass from making contact with the worn floor tile.

"That _'fag'_ is my _boyfriend _and I'll hold his hand whenever I fucking _want_ to," he spat out, taking Kurt's hand again, gently in spite of his fierce anger. "If you don't _like_ it, it's too fucking _bad._" He raked his gaze over the crowd as if to challenge anyone else who might have had a problem, and then, though Kurt could have sworn they'd decided against it, he pulled Kurt to him, ran a shaking hand along his cheek, _and kissed him_.

It was brief, and Kurt was so numb from the fight he could barely feel it, at least, not on his lips, but the impact on the crowd was immediate.

Someone gasped and a few fangirls let out a love struck _'awwww…'_; there were more cat calls, this time clearly in support; some laughter, directed at the sputtering Azimio who spat at the floor in their general direction, then stomped away, a few straggling minions trailing after him; and then their friends and supporters – glee and school alike – were pressing forward to shake hands and pat backs.

The outpouring of support, in particular from the voiceless bullied masses, was heartwarming and exhilarating, and arms around his boyfriend, a grinning Kurt happily considered the Show's performance a success.

The bell was ringing for classes and people were starting to move on, but though he had yet to open his locker to grab his books, Dave was nonetheless pulling him, not toward his first period class, but toward the auditorium.

"Where are we going," he asked in utter confusion, propelled by Dave's big hand and the press of the crowd at their backs, all also heading toward the auditorium.

"Show's not over yet," Dave called, glancing back over his shoulder, smile sweet, _freed_.

"What are you talking about? _That_ was the Show," he said, pointing behind them with his chin.

"_Uh-uh_." There was mischief in Dave's eyes. "There's _one_ more act."

Kurt didn't get to ask just what in hell Dave was up to, because they were in the auditorium now, their friends and converted classmates filing in behind them.

"What's going _on_," he asked, his confusion deepening. The stage was lit and their regular accompanist, Brad, as well as several of the usual glee band members, stood at the ready.

He felt a sudden rush of warmth in his chest; were his friends going to perform for him? It _was_ his first day back at McKinley after all those months at Dalton.

"Is New Directions doing a number for me?"

_Why aren't any of them on stage?_

Dave finally turned around to look at him directly and when he did, Kurt could see his face blazing red.

"Not New Directions, Kurt…" he said, softly, and then, instead of finishing the sentence, he let go of Kurt's hand, walked down the aisle, and hopped onto the stage…

Two seconds later, Mercedes and Rachel were with him, Rachel hugging him from behind. "Sit tight, babe," Mercedes said, kissing his cheek. "He's been working on this for a week."

"He _what,_" Kurt shrieked, swinging around to look back at the stage.

_God, look at him!_

Dave had survived locker-tossing and belligerent ranting in the hallway, barely breaking a sweat, but up on stage, under those lights, with the whole _school_ crowded into the aisles and filling the seats, he looked as pale as a ghost.

He wanted to run on stage and pull Dave into the wings – partly to wrap his arms around him and kiss him like no tomorrow, partly to get that stricken look of utter panic off his gorgeous, ruddy face – but now Finn was there with a hand on his arm, and even Mr. Schuester seemed in on it.

"Relax, Kurt," Schue said gently. "I've been working with him and I promise, he's gonna be fine."

He had no more time to fret, though, because Dave was nodding to Brad and the band was getting into position.

At the guitar's first mournful twang, the horns jumping in to accent the highs and the lows of the melody, Kurt felt the bottom drop out of his heart.

This was one of the songs Dave had brought to their time together, a deep, bluesy duet between music legends Elton John and Leon Russell, and it was actually Kurt's first real taste of the sound of blues, sad and deep and somehow darkly sexual, a sound he'd come to associate with David; a sound he'd come to _love._

The first time Dave played this album for Kurt he had started with _this cut_ though it was nearly the last on the disc, and upon hearing it, he remembered thinking how appropriate it was for them, he and Dave, though the song's sadness was transformed, for_ them_, into the euphoric joy of their having discovered in time what was, for the singer, too late a realization.

He'd wondered if Dave had known the song when they'd had their first meeting in Cridersville; it echoed something he'd joked to Dave about Dave's somewhat lacking method of expressing himself...

'"_You should have sent roses…"'_

Now, listening to the band lay down the foundation for Dave's opening line, Kurt felt himself grinning like a fool and crying, all at the same time.

He'd never heard David sing before, but he loved him so much right now, he couldn't have cared less _how_ he sounded, but when Dave opened his mouth – and recovered from his first, fleetingly faltering note – and he heard the rich tones and the _power_ of him, he felt his heart _soar_ even as he chastised himself for fantasizing about future duets. (_'My boyfriend rocks!')_

"'_Are you standing outside? Looking up at the sky, cursing a wondering star. Well, if I were you, I'd throw rocks at the moon,'"_ Dave sang, panic subsiding as he settled into the sentiment of the slow melody, bolstered by the warmth of the piano and the slow, simmering drum support. They were starting a journey together, the singer and the audience, the serenader and serenad_ee, _and Kurt shivered, getting on board, knowing the song well, though perhaps not its relation to their own story.

Dave was relaxed now, not studying his own hands or looking for the exits; he sought out and found Kurt in the crowd, right where he'd left him in the aisle, and with an arch of those sexy brows, he caught his eyes and held them. _"'This cage round my heart…locked up what I meant to say, what I felt all along the way. Just wondering how come I couldn't take your breath away.'"_

_Oh!_

He felt a sudden pain at the remembrance of things he'd said in anger, at the realization that he perhaps had some part in Dave's desperation and pain, in Dave's belief that someone like Kurt could never be attracted to someone like David Karofsky.

Kurt was crying full on now and Dave, perhaps seeing that from the stage, shook his head as he sang as if to tell him he needn't; to tell him it was _all right_.

Standing behind him now, Mercedes had thrown her arms his neck, hugging him tightly. "Aw, sweetie, it's _okay_… He _needed_ to say all of this – he needed you to hear it, he needed _everyone_ to hear it."

David's strong voice broke through the haze and nodding, taking Rachel's proffered tissue, he took a deep breath and listened.

"''_Cause I never sent roses. I never did enough. I didn't know how to love you, though I loved you so much…'"_

At this point, Kurt gave up on the tissues and just let the tears fall.

He thought about how much David had grown since their first real conversation (that didn't include homophobic slurs or shoulder slams) at _"their"_ diner outside of town, how he'd banished is demons – the anger and confusion, the guilt of familial duty – and Kurt and done the same for his own, though the flashbacks and panic attacks had lingered for a while, and how they'd grown slowly together, realizing the things they had that brought them together were far stronger than those they had kept them apart, realizing, too, that love doesn't have a type, it just _is_, and he could scarcely believe that only three months had passed since that first, fateful epiphany, the night of Dave's confession in the dark and empty Dalton parking lot.

They'd come so far together to come right back here to the beginning, to the place where they both belonged. They'd overcome so much, they could overcome _any_thing, and whatever the future held, their _today_ was almost too wonderful to be believed.

And just then he knew that he couldn't stand still any longer.

As Dave sang about _'building no more walls,'_ Kurt flew down the aisle, leapt onto the stage, and caught his man in his own tiny version of a bear hug.

At that point, Dave lost the words and the band finished out the song on their own, but no one cared, least of all Kurt.

Arms still fast around him, standing on his toes so he could reach, he whispered, "You _do _take my breath away – _every_ _day_. _I love you, David Karofsky._"

If the crowd cheered, which they did, and Schue and Ms. Pillsbury started directing everyone on to their first period classes, which they _did_, neither Dave nor Kurt noticed.

For now, they were in their own little world.

And _this_ - this moment of pure understanding, pure _redemption_ - was all that mattered.

Fini

"_Are you standing outside?  
Looking up at the sky  
Cursing a wondering star  
Well If I were you  
I'd throw rocks at the moon  
I'd say damn you wherever you are  
I don't know where to start  
This cage 'round my heart  
Locked up what I'd meant to say  
What I felt all along the way  
Just wondering how come I couldn't take your breath away_

'Cause I never sent roses  
I never did enough  
I didn't know how to love you  
Though I loved you so much  
When I should've sent roses  
When you crossed my mind  
For no other reason  
Than the fact you were mine  
I should've sent roses

Looking back on my life  
Oh, if fate should decide  
I could do it all over again  
I'd build no more walls  
I'd stay true and recall  
The fragrance of you on the wind  
You'll get better than me  
Someone who can see  
Right from the start  
Give up all that you need  
I'll slip away  
Knowing I'm half the man I could be

Cause I never sent roses  
I never did enough  
I didn't know how to love you  
Though I loved you so much  
And I should have sent roses  
When you crossed my mind  
For no other reason  
Than the fact you were mine  
I should've sent roses  
Yeah, I should've sent roses"

_I Should Have Sent Roses _

_© Elton John/Bernie Taupin/Leon Russell (Oct 2009)_

13


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